


Second Chances

by Strega_VonDrachen



Series: Turnabout [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Mutual Pining, baby hope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 22:57:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18353456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strega_VonDrachen/pseuds/Strega_VonDrachen
Summary: Emma is adapting, slowly, far too slowly, to her new ever evolving life. Will she allow herself the freedom to be happy? Will Regina survive the wait? Will having Hope around make things better... or worse?





	Second Chances

**Author's Note:**

> A bit of retcon. yes, I admit it, I forgot about Hope. And so did ShadowDianne. oops.  
> But it's all better now. right? Who doesn't love heap tons of angst???

Regina was not normally one to sleep soundly through the night. Holding Emma in her arms however, the smells of sex still lingering in her hair, left her in a profound, deep slumber. 

She startled awake in a haze hours later, alone, and wondering if it had all been a dream. Early morning light was warming the room, summertime birds chirping softly outdoors, but the bed felt cold. Regina shivered as she sat, keeping the sheet close to her chest. Emma’s clothes were gone from the floor. 

With a heavy sigh, she rubbed her eyes and considered going back to bed or just getting dressed and leaving early for the office. 

She smelled the coffee before she heard her voice.

“Hey,” Emma said softly from the doorway, and Regina turned. She was dressed, two cups of coffee in hand, her expression unavoidably anxious. 

The subtle current of her magic returning to the room lifted the hairs on the back of Regina’s neck and she shivered once more, for entirely different reasons. She pulled the sheet tighter across her chest and accepted the offered cup. 

“Sorry,” Emma mumbled, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I had trouble sleeping. So I just got up.” 

Regina tried to mask her disappointment. That Emma had actually returned to bed to stay the night had been unexpected. She knew better than to get her hopes up too soon. “That’s fine, dear.” She sipped the coffee, letting the strong brew comfort her senses. Emma had managed to make it just how she liked it, and even that was enough to cause her heart to twinge. 

Emma ran her thumb across the rim of her mug, staring into its contents as if it held hidden answers. Time lapsed in silence, broken only by the sounds of birds and their occasional sipping. 

“Do you work today?” Regina eventually asked, not looking at her either. 

“No, it’s a daughter day.” 

Regina hummed in approval. “Please tell Hope her Auntie Regina says hello.” 

Emma’s mouth was a thin smile as she nodded, the tips of her ears burning red. “Sure, yeah, no problem.” 

The air between them grew stiff, painfully awkward, and Emma winced as she heard Regina suck her teeth. 

“You know-- Emma, you can always bring her--” 

“Regina, I--” 

“Henry’s room is-- or the guest room, if you--” 

“Regina…. Stop.” Emma looked at her, the pleading in her eyes a contrast from her firm voice. Regina did not return her gaze. “You know I… I just can’t right now.” 

“I know.” 

“It’s complicated.”

Regina’s voice was scornful. “I know.”

Emma had been reaching out to touch her arm. She stopped. And she withdrew, back to her mug. Her eyes grew hot as her stare returned to the black liquid, tears burning at the edges, and she sighed, for once grateful Regina wasn’t looking at her. 

Her gut twisted with worry that, perhaps, staying over had been the wrong idea. At that thought, her heart rebelled in earnest and her magic tickled beneath her skin. Emma was absolutely torn. 

“...You just… you don’t know what you need, right now,” Regina said in an undertone. Even without seeing, the woman could read her like a book. “Not that you ever have, before.” She could also, just as effectively, tear out her pages. 

“Regina…” Emma whined. She supposed she had earned that remark, even if it had been cold. It was true. This was hardly easy for either of them, though.

“...I’m sorry, Emma.” She shook her head and reached out on her own, still graciously not looking at her, and placed her hand on her knee. She squeezed. “I don’t want to push you. I’m sorry.” And she was. 

And so was Emma. For so very many things.

During her divorce, Emma had often left Hope with her parents, eventually moving out of her house and to their farm. For a time it was safe, removed and warm, but it fast became crowded and she had to find her own space. Her head was just too full. Still, they continued to look after Hope while she would deal with her failing marriage and when she was at work. Being a suddenly single mother, her once upon a time greatest fear when she was younger, would have been so much more a nightmare without her family. 

Especially without Regina. 

Though it took quite some time to approach her. There was a wide chasm that had yet to be bridged, one created by years of mistakes and secrets and outright lies, one that had festered with time and left the gap filled with pain. Not resentment, not distrust, not even anger. Only an unmentionable loss, and a surviving hope that hurt the most of all. 

They had missed each other, terribly, and it showed, gleaming in their eyes whenever they met. At town hall meetings, at Granny’s, at Henry and Jacinda’s house, and at all points unplanned. Whether by coincidence or something stronger, they simply could not avoid the encounters. They always seemed to find each other. 

Emma reasoned this was why Regina had been so willing to leave Storybrooke behind, and she assumed correctly. After the graduation trip to California with Henry, after their stolen moment, unintentionally shared beneath the rainwashed eaves of their hotel balcony, tired and emotional with tongues loosened by tequila… after they had kissed and felt their magic meet and rise from their skin, after they had both silently recognized how they had brought magic all the way to the other side of the continent in the land that did not allow magic in the first place… after assuaging Emma’s nauseated guilt and refusing to let the brief, passing moment ruin the full fate of her future happiness… It had been very difficult for Regina to even look at Emma again, let alone see her continue on with her very select, isolated, happy ending after all. 

After Regina had left, Emma’s pregnancy had become increasingly difficult, and her heart always heavy. She had been morose, her hormones ultimately set to blame, and though she had allowed the excuse and for her pirate husband to dote and devote to her every need, even at the cost of her own sense of liberty, Emma could not escape the truth. She was unhappy. She had made a terrible mistake and had tried to stuff her soul into a life that didn’t fit. And all she wanted was far away. Her son. Her… best friend. Her old family. 

Despite all this, Hope’s birth was one of the brightest of her days. She was not living the life she had envisioned, but this was a second chance at the life she had once had. Emma wanted to be a mother, and a good one… like Regina had been for Henry. And she gave her heart to Hope in every way but literally. 

Hook had not expected to suddenly become second chair, and did not appreciate the demotion. And when Regina returned, so did his old, hateful habits. The months after the coronation were dark and Emma seldom left the house. But his selfishness and bitter abuse was not tolerated for long. Emma had her Hope and that was all she wanted from him. He had tried to take her away, but not a single denizen of Storybrooke would allow it. Regina never spoke a word of her involvement to Emma, but she was at the head of every defense and worked to ensure the divorce granted her full custody. It was an ugly time, but it was over the moment his ship disappeared beyond the horizon, leaving Emma with her freedom and her second chance. 

Now, Emma knew better. For once, she was trying to listen to her heart and to the will of her magic and to the pull that kept her inevitably by Regina’s side. That did nothing, however, to help quiet the agonizing voices that still rallied inside her head and decried her a mockery of motherhood.

“I just… want to make the right choice. For Hope’s sake.” The guilt twisted again. Like a knife in her belly. She was using her daughter as an excuse, unjustly, and she knew it. “I just… want to be a good mother.” Tears began to fall. 

“You are,” Regina said with quiet certainty. 

“...Am I?” 

She was remembering a time, many years ago when she was still so new to the strange town of Storybrooke, catching the current Sheriff sneaking off the roof from the room she sat in now, and how angry she had been, possibly irrational, to know that such affairs were carrying on with Henry in the house. She had been jealous, too, even then. 

And now she had Regina, with the tables turned, and she had no idea what to do. 

“Should we… even be doing this?” The question fell from Emma’s mouth before she could catch herself. She froze, waiting for a response. 

Regina gave none. 

A moment passed in dreadful silence. They both, not looking at the other, simultaneously sipped at their coffee. 

That fateful night at Aesop’s tables, the week after her divorce had been finalized, had been months ago. Drunk and riding on the high of her life’s extrication, Emma had pursued pleasure, a satisfaction of release and the simplicity of ecstasy. She had paid no thought nor concern to the repercussions of her actions. Only the morning after, hung over and hurting, when she had snuck away from Regina did she realize the mess she had made. One night stands, her old playbook, her old drunken dodges, her old self… it was all long gone. She couldn’t go back. She had to be a new Emma, and that terrified her. 

Granny had been the one to look after Hope that time, freeing Snow to drink with her daughter and for David to act as designated driver. Had Snow not gotten absolutely smashed on two beers and challenged the local viking gang to pool with David as her second, they surely would have seen Emma slink off with Regina. Neither of her parents ended up questioning her disappearance, understanding her need for space and respecting that. Granny, however, had eyed her critically. Even after fully sobering and concealing all evidence of the night’s torrid events, Emma was still convinced she suspected something and blamed it on her wolf’s nose. The old woman did at least had the grace to let her retrieve her baby without question. 

The next time she and Regina had fallen into bed, after one too many ciders consumed in her parlor in an attempt to avoid actual conversation, Emma had different accommodations arranged for Hope. Just in case. 

Ruby and Dorothy, still in Oz though now only just around the corner from Storybrooke’s Main Street, had been more than excited to babysit. The commute was a bit out of the way, and if she traveled without magic it took significantly longer than driving to her parent’s farm, but it was worth the cost of their discretion. Neither of the young women asked too many questions, much to Emma’s appreciation, and were both frankly enthused by the opportunity to practice “caring for cubs,” as they so fondly liked to joke. Emma suspected they were already planning to start their own pack… She was happy for them. 

She was broken hearted, though, every time she dropped by, feigning a second shift at the station as her continued excuse to carry on with Regina. She would feed Hope dinner, sing her a song, and rock her to sleep. By dawn she was always there to retrieve her, but every time it took her longer and longer to leave. And the idea of taking her to Regina’s… of having them both… close and cared for under the same roof…. It was more than she could believe. More than she could trust to be safe. More than she felt she deserved. 

The future was still too uncertain, the past still too raw, the present still too new. 

So, why did everything feel so old? So familiar? So… right? 

“I… would suppose,” Regina began, her voice thick with suppressed emotion. “That it entirely depends on… just what it is you need, Emma.” She withdrew her hand, back to her coffee. 

“I need you,” she said, again, without thinking, only feeling the absence of her hand. “I don’t want… I don’t want to lose you again.” 

Regina and Emma finally looked at each other. The gaze was intense. 

“You can’t. I won’t allow it.” She said it with a smile, one that burned.

Regina loved her and Emma saw it, plain as the day, on her face. It made her want to run and cry. It was all so soon and still so late. They had gone about this backwards, as they seemingly did all things.

Emma struggled to find her voice. Regina nodded resolutely and, licking her dry lips, added, “You should go. It’s daughter day.” They would talk about this later. Probably. Maybe. Hopefully. 

“Yeah… I should just… go.” Draining her cup, Emma checked her pockets for her phone and keys and then stood. She looked back to Regina, her hesitation evident and etched into every feature on her face. “...Next week is Hope’s first birthday. Mom wants to do a thing at Granny’s.” She bit her lip. 

“I’ll be there,” Regina said, eyes still sad but encouraged. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” 

“Good. I… look forward to seeing you.” She cringed, knowing how that sounded within context. “I mean, really, seeing you. Outside of here.” She looked at the bed. 

Regina’s jaw went taught. “Will that… be ok?” She sounded so vulnerable. 

“It will be my honor.” 

With a final look back, one mixed with equal promise and trepidation, Emma leaned over and kissed Regina’s cheek. And then her mouth. They parted slowly, and Emma left without another word. 

They didn’t see each other again until the baby’s party a week later. Between bites of cake and sips of coffee and passing the birthday girl around to be held, above the shrieks of laughter and occasional inexplicable crying, and throughout conversations with family, Emma and Regina stole furtive glances and kept a healthy distance. An electric pulse seemed to pass through them with every contact made. 

The sun was just setting as Regina was leaving the diner, with only Snow, David and Granny left cleaning the party. Emma came up to her, Hope asleep in her arms. 

“Thanks for coming,” she said quietly, stopping just a few inches closer than was probably wise. 

Regina simply smiled and nodded, carefully watching her family behind her back and catching Granny’s surreptitious stare. A lifted eyebrow and Regina had her looking the other way. 

Emma wanted to say more, and the words hung like breath in the cold before her. She inhaled and nodded in return, unable to find the courage. 

Hope cooed in her sleep. They both looked at her. Regina ran a finger across the soft blonde hair under her bonnet.

“Birthday girl had a long day, today.” Big, deep blue eyes opened slowly, as if Hope knew she was being talked about. “Oh, hello, beautiful. I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

Hope mumbled something that almost vaguely sounded like words and started to shift in Emma’s arms. She latched onto Regina’s finger and held tight. 

“My, how strong you are,” she said, her heart doing somersaults, and looked to Emma. “Just like her mother.” 

They did not sleep together that night. Regina returned to Mifflin Street alone and Emma went to her new apartment with Hope. But the next time they did… Emma brought Hope with her. 

And the time after that. 

And the time after that. 

And, eventually, a nursery had been made in Regina’s guest room. 

“I’m skimming off the budget surplus and hiring a new deputy,” Emma told Regina in the kitchen later that next month. Hope was standing, now, and Emma didn’t want to miss a single step. “I need to spend more time at home during the day.” 

“...Home?” Regina’s voice was restrained. She continued to mash the sweet potatoes, Hope’s favorite dinner, without giving away more of her thoughts. 

Emma, however, could hear them loud as a siren. Her heart still rammed into her chest, anxiety running seamlessly with bravery. She chose not to be afraid. 

“Yeah. At home.” 

Hope gurgled happily as she fell on her rump and got back up to stand once more. 

“At your apartment,” Regina clarified.

“At home,” Emma repeated. They looked at each other. Hope took a step forward. And another. And then she fell, laughing. Emma smiled broadly, scooped her child into her arms and kissed her head, still looking at Regina. 

Home was wherever her family was. It was here. Even if Emma couldn’t yet say it.

“Well, dear,” Regina said, her cheeks reddening over. “You know you’re always welcome. To stay. Whenever… you decide.” 

“Yeah. I know.” 

“Yeah. I know you know.” 

“Yah!” Hope echoed, and they both chuckled.

It was a beautiful fear, to be at home and not speak of it, to be so comfortable and yet unable to relax. As if, every day, they stood on a precipice with the wind pushing them to either fall or fly. Neither had wings that hadn’t already been broken. But, together, they stayed aloft with Hope ever present between them. And, until the wind changed, that was enough. They were enough.


End file.
